


burn with me, heaven's on fire

by TotemundTabu



Series: Throbb Weeks [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Animal Traits, Dom Robb Stark, M/M, Sub Theon Greyjoy, Superheroes, Top Robb Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2018-12-30 04:49:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12101076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotemundTabu/pseuds/TotemundTabu
Summary: Theon Greyjoy, young sculptor, shares a studio with the very charming comic book artist, Robb Stark, a shy and tender man who has the habit of disappearing on him quite too often. Theon has also a strong hate for the new wolf-boy hero of London, Grey Wind, who destroyed one of his art pieces during a fight.





	1. 1

**burn with me, heaven's on fire**

 

* * *

 

 

**1.**

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you need to watch the news?”, Theon pointed out, groaning at his sister.

“I don't get why you hate him so much.”, she replied, munching on a handful of popcorn, crushing it loudly, while staring at the TV in front of them. “He's not ugly, though.”

Theon got annoyed, “How can you tell.”

“I'm gay, not blind. - she snorted, munching, cheeks like a chipmunk's – I mean, I didn't say I'd go down on him, I said he's not ugly. Bit hairy for my taste.”

“I thought you liked your carpets.”

“I do. - she laughed – But hairy chests are not my thing.”

Theon's glance fell on the television too and he had to admit, mentally of course, that his sister was not wrong about the new London wonder boy, Grey Wind, receiving a prize for saving the city once again. Tall, wide chest, partly showing through the costume, pretty smile, he did cut a striking figure. One could even close an eye to the enormous amount of fur – _red like heaven's on fire_ – and the overly metallic silver of the overly tight costume. Theon found himself checking out a certain part of the costume design...

“I'm not that much of a furry that I'd want to fuck a werewolf. - Theon commented, more to reassure himself rather than his sister – He can look human but _that thing_ has teeth and motherfucking claws.”

“I wonder if he transforms or if he's like that all the time. - Asha mumbled – I mean, he has the top part of his face masked. So that won't change much.”

Theon thought about it and his sister was right.

The wonder boy had his face exposed only from below the tip of the nose. He found himself wondering if his hair was the same color of the hairs around or how his face would look like all uncovered. His yellow, amber eyes, like the ones of a wolf made Theon shiver at the thought.

He did have nice, swollen, big lips, and a jaw that could cut. Theon had also always had a soft spot for big boys, wide shoulders and arms strong enough to lift him and why not if there was also... 

“You’re eyeing his crotch again, aren't you?”

“Shut the fuck up, Asha.”

His sister snickered and jumped off the sofa with a grin, “Anyway, gotta go. - she kissed his cheek – And you need to work on your next piece.”

Theon groaned, “So wolf boy can destroy that one too?”

“He was fighting, baby bro, don't take it personally.”

“He threw my statue at the lizard guy! - Theon shouted, outraged – Couldn't he have thrown literally anything else? The Queen was close enough!”

Asha shook her head, “Or you could think of it as doing your part in saving London.”

Theon gave her a done look, “Do you like know me as someone who gives a fuck about random citizens?”

She laughed, “Maybe you could be wolf boy's Lois Lane.”

“Lois Lane didn't have two years of her work turn to dust.”, Theon pointed out.

“My, oh my, aren't you the pettiest little shit.”

“Two years, Asha, two years and he didn't even apologize. - he crossed his arms – It was my first public commission and he blew it to bits. Literally.”

“Technically, the lizard guy blew it to bits.”

“Well, he threw it. - Theon mumbled, then turned to the TV – I'll work on the next piece... but I don't want to hear a word about that guy ever again.”

 

*

 

Theon Greyjoy's prayers were very rarely listened to.

His hands were deep into moldable plastic when it happened.

He decided to go to the studio to work on some new pieces, he was thinking of making a triptych of figures in plastic and glass, isolated and not interacting with one another, connected just by a frame of wires and rubbish, a woman, an old man, a man with a deformed face who was throwing up his own organs painted in reflective glass shards and pyrite... yes, that was going to be good. He smiled proudly at how his creation was coming together, how easily it just... came to be.

Then he took the material to mold the organs’ base into his hands before applying the other materials on it. 

And then he heard it. He had to hear that extremely annoying voice and that fake “ahah, thank you” ringing in his ears. 

He turned, his neck making the most metallic and ungraceful movement. If he had put his hands on that fucking asshole of a jerk, he would have crushed him.

He stood up and saw the owner of the studio smiling, shaking the hand of this... oh, well. Theon blinked, realizing he must have heard wrong.

Because when that boy turned, Theon sure, no, that couldn't have been that jerk.

First of all- no big teeth. Normal teeth.

No giant fucking claws at the ends – actually, quite short even for a man, he noted.

His arms didn't seem particularly hairy. 

And his eyes were of the sweetest, tenderest, rawest blue color Theon had ever seen. They looked like the sea that had been drawn by a child with crayons. They hid slightly behind thick glasses with a terrible frame.

And his smile was as soft as it was shy, not like an overgrown fur ball of cockiness.

“Robb. Theon. Theon. Robb.”, the landlord claimed, all proud for no reason at all.

“H-hey...”

Theon smirked, leaning forward, eyes half-lidded, “Well, hello.”

The landlord glared, “You really don’t beat around the bush when it comes to flirting. - he turned to Robb – Let him at least put his stuff down.”

Theon eyed the two small hand bags the boy had on him, “All there?”

He smiled, “Ah, yes. I don't need a lot, really. Just my computer and some paper and ink.”

Theon frowned, “Uh?”

The studio landlord clapped his hands together with satisfaction, then slammed one on Robb's shoulder, almost making him trip.

Super strength was easy to exclude. And clumsy as he seemed, surely super speed was also not in the picture.

Theon wondered why he was still thinking about that.

Robb smiled shyly and raised, rubbing the back of his head, “Ah, I'm a comic book artist. I needed a place to work in peace, but I won't take up much space.”

Theon blinked, surprised, “In a studio? Is your house that small?”

“Chaotic. - he chuckled – I have five siblings.”

“What the holy fuck. - Theon shouted – Have your parents been informed of the existence of condoms?”

It had already been too late when he realized that he could have been offensive. But the dude didn't seem to mind.

Robb laughed genuinely, “They like economically-draining surprises, I'm afraid.”

And he had that silly shiny smile and his eyes were all beautifully blue and his voice echoed so nicely.

And Theon thought about how he was in black, drop crotch pants and a black open-side tank top and how the black was stained all over by a constellation of blue and white paint drops and how he stank of moldable plastic and he had his hair up in a stupid messy bun that was in no way flattering for his mane and the scent of ashes from too many cigarettes was all over his hair, and... and Robb seemed almost embarrassed, blushing slightly, while his eyes were glued to the part of his chest that the tank top left exposed, as if that thin line of ribs and flesh burned him and his pupils were blown black and wide with desire.

But Robb also nervously moved his glasses up, almost clumsy.

Theon blinked, smitten.

He looked like such a hopeless dork … 

 

*

 

_His_ hopeless dork.

Theon became possessive over Robb, like a lioness over hunting territory, way earlier than he was willing to admit. His laugh made him feel light, dizzy, like when as a child you would take a sip of your parent's sparkling wine on New Year’s Eve and it would tickle your tongue and make the lights brighter. His words were sweet like the bottom of a rum glass, when there’s little liquid amber left and the lights, cutting through the glass, glimmer and glitter and turn that amber into melted flames. His hands, his hands felt like summer wine in the fresh summer night, drank when one is already half-drunk, dazed, kissing a girl against the barrels of a canteen and opening her legs and drinking from her too, until the sweetness mixes and she comes and you take another glass. 

Theon couldn't help himself from staring, stopping himself from trying to flirt, to throw a hint, but Robb didn't seem to pick up most of those.

Maybe he was straight, that would have been the most logical thing to assume. But he didn't look straight and fuck, Theon didn't spend more than a decade developing his gaydar to find out it was poorly set.

Theon spent a couple of days hitting on the boy more or less shamelessly, he was not used to rejection – in the past even some straight men had decided he was worthy of being an exception – but this one acted just friendly. Very friendly, of course, when arriving in the studio, he always brought coffee and he did compliment Theon's work, but it had been a week and Theon was starting to lose his mind – especially because he had started wearing the tightest leather pants or skinny jeans he owned in hope of his ass to do its magic, but instead he was starting to feel like his legs were going to burst out of them.

He was rubbing the pyrite shards to make them more reflective, when it came to his mind to try to conquest the dork by teasing his nerdy side.

“So... - he mumbled – Comic books like... Superman stuff?”

“Sort of. - Robb turned, a shy expression – You find it weird?”

Theon rose an eyebrow, “Man, I was the guy who used purses in school and right now I'm making guts made entirely out of pyrite goo, I mean... - he shrugged – It's not like I'm normal enough to decide what's weird.”

Robb snorted and his glasses twitched a bit on his nose.

Theon moved closer, swiftly, got his hands on them and observed them, fakely distracted, “These frames don't flatter you though, just so we're clea...”

Then he stopped talking. He blinked, staring at him.

Robb was smiling so warmly, Theon felt his stomach melt away. His throat closed up, his heart raced.

Robb's curls were long enough to fall over his shoulders, as red as fire – fire, fire, it reminded him of something.

Robb's hand caressed Theon's, and brushed it, ever so slowly, before grabbing the glasses, “I'm basically blind without them.”

“Bat blind?”

Theon felt utterly stupid about that one, but Robb started laughing really loudly, closing his eyes and moving a bit forward. Theon begged mentally that he would have kissed him... but he didn't.

Electric anger shook and tore the fabric of his heart.

Was he really not into him? And why would that even matter?

Lust was an easy thing to get, to consume, to lose.

Like fire. Fucking fire, again, in his mind.

Robb just smiled at him, with that little grin like a good boy from a good family, white straight teeth for a straight boy who likes girls with white panties and white hearts.

Theon felt his smirk tilt and twitch. Shame burnt his cheeks sore.

“My favorites though... - Robb continued – ...would be Hal and Barry.”

Theon blinked, then frowned.

“If you’re counting on me knowing who you're speaking about, boy, you're very mistaken.”

Robb laughed, as if he was not offended at all, “Do you want me to bring you something to read?”

“Uh?”

“If you're interested, of course. - he winked – It's free comics. - then he seemed to get shy all over again and he panicked – Ah, I mean, worst case scenario you have something to read on the toilet, right?” and then he became all pale.

Theon wondered if that shame came from mentioning bowel movements or if, maybe, somewhere under that clean cut appearance he had guessed correctly.

He bit his lips, smirking slightly, cocking a brow and lowering his eyelids, allusive, “Am I making you nervous, per chance?”

Robb looked away and rubbed the back of his nape, “Maybe.”

Theon smirked, smug, and yet endeared. His lips felt bruised by the void, by the absence of the kiss he craved.

“And why is that?”

Robb lowered his look and swallowed, “Ahm, it's just you're... - he gulped, and Theon thought about how delicious that apple of his looked and how much he wanted to bite that neck purple – Very handsome.”

Handsome.

Theon blinked.

He was really cute, wasn't he? “Handsome”.

The usual comments he got ranged from “paradise ass” to “blowjob lips”, a couple of times he had gotten more elaborate ones like “wet dream on legs”. Mostly “fucking hot”, “hot stuff”, “sexy thing” or similar. 

Theon chuckled, “You're quite something too...”

Robb's glance moved around, as if he were about to run away, and he stuttered almost. “And, hm-”

“You look all red.”, Theon lied, teasing, and getting pleased as Robb's cheek did flame up.

“I mean, you're all, umh, charming and stuff. - he rubbed the back of his nape nervously – And, umh...”

“You say that like it's a bad thing.”, Theon observed.

Robb found it hard to gulp.

“You kinda leave me speechless and, I'm, umh, not very good with words and...”

Theon was considering just jumping on him and making out there, but a part of him, the conscience perhaps, seemed to be asking him to stay focused and in his own space bubble. He hated that damn thing.

Robb started to fidget.

“I mean, I'm not sure if I got the wrong impression, but maybe you - ”

What?

Has that clinical case of dorkiness not realized he had been flirting with him all week like a poor fool?

“I mean, it seems too good that someone like you would be...”

Theon grabbed Robb's face with both his hands and stared at him, frowning, dumbfounded, bothered and, damn him, totally enchanted, “You're oblivious beyond what should be humanly possible.”

Robb's grin widened.

“So... - his fingers caressed, in an unaware tickling tenderness, Theon's waist – Maybe, we could...”

Theon smirked, elated, bit his lips, “Oh yeah, we definitely could.”, he whispered, seductive and as hot as melted wax and the flame licking it undone itself, before putting his hands back on his shirt to take it off.

“...go on a date!”, Robb exclaimed, ecstatic.

Theon's hands let go of his shirt and he sighed.

Dates. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had went on a date and not a random fuck with some grindr dude.

He groaned silently, wondering how much time he’d have to wait to be fucked against a wall. Then it hit him that Robb was the type of guy who waits for a first kiss. To make it special and, fuck special, Theon was the type of person that liked sloppy make outs that become devouring, voracious shags in the back of a car … 

Then he looked at Robb again, at how sweetly he smiled and something clenched his stomach and twisted him raw and damned.

 

*

 

Theon opened the door and groaned upon seeing him. Crossed his arms and leaned on the side.

Robb gulped, staring at him, mortified, redder than shame.

Theon glanced at his hands: flowers and chocolate. Classic, even banal.

Robb showed a nervous smile, sighing, “I didn't know what you liked so, I picked a bit of everything.”

“You stood me up.”, Theon shot him down, coldly.

Robb's eyes widened as if it hurt to hear what he perfectly knew.

“Look, I know, I messed up. - he moved closer – Let me explain...”

Theon shot him a death glare, “Do you know what happened to the last person who stood me up?”

Robb gulped and hesitated, “You killed them?”

“Nothing. - Theon said with an angry smile on his lips, arms crossed tighter, but he was moving towards Robb with his body – Nothing, because he doesn't exist.”

Robb let out a little cough, then a smile, “Then I'm your first?”

Theon seemed tempted to strangle him.

“Puns won't help you.”

And then he kneeled. And looked at Theon with the most powerful puppy eyes that had ever been used against him. God damn him and his pretty blue eyes.

“I'm really _really_ sorry. - Robb said, staring firmly at him, sly, and romantically taking his hand and oh, fuck it, the dork knew how to do it – You're important to me.”

Theon rolled his eyes, weakened. “Where did you end up? You didn't even call me.”

“There was all that mess with Skinless Man. - he said and Theon remembered there had been another one of those super power weirdos around that day – My phone got crushed, I was stuck in the underground, couldn't do anything.”

Theon puffed his cheeks, annoyed at his own worry, noticing how now he wanted to hold that guy and kiss him and give him a nice welcome-back-alive-from-drama blowjob. He untied the knot of his arms and moved from the door, “If you want, you can come in.”

Robb smiled, raising an eyebrow, “Does this mean I'm forgiven?”

Theon took the box of chocolates, “Just because this is the luxury stuff. - he smirked – And it probably cost you more than the dinner we planned would have.”

“We can do also dinner, later, if you want.”

Theon snorted, “Do you want to call me Vivian too? - he smiled, then, softer – You take your tea with sugar and milk, right?”

Robb smiled, nodding, and followed Theon inside.

Theon's apartment was different from what he had imagined: cleaner (he was a bit messy in the studio, with materials everywhere and a tendency to colonize everything with his emptied diet soda cans) and blacker, with tons of art books, everywhere, from a whole library on the bookshelves planted into the walls to towers of books on the ground, as tall as tables. There were also other types of books: classics, of course, mythology, photography, pornography … sci-fi ?

Robb's eyes sparkled.

“You like H. G. Wells?”

Theon blinked, “Uh-uh. - then smirked – Why? Have you mistaken me for a romance novel type of guy?”

Robb looked embarrassed, “No, it's just... I, umh, most people who look like you don't really read... nerdy stuff.”

Theon seemed pleased, he sucked his lips, “Like me?”

“Hot _and_ fashionable. - Robb admitted, then took a book from the top of the pile – What's your favorite by him?”

“Hmm... The Island of Doctor Moreau, probably. - then he moved to Robb and snatched the book out of his hands – Are you here to found a book club or... - his eyes fell on Robb's lips – To make up to me for your forfeit?”

Robb sucked his lips, then looked at the side.

“The second, of course, if you want me to...”

“Otherwise, - Theon's fingers ran over his shoulders, slowly, then lowered, brushing his chest over the shirt – I wouldn't have let you in. - he undid a button on Robb’s shirt and let his fingers intrude – You know?”

Theon's eyes were low, focused on Robb' shirt, but as they rose, so slow, as a melody beginning to play, as the verge of the night, Robb felt his whole body caught in fever and shivers.

His own glance fell on Theon's plump lips, glued, unable to escape the rapture of that tiny smirk.

Robb stuttered, swallowed, “You're a bit... forward.”

A smug look, as Theon cocked a brow up.

“You are... - he smiled wider, his lips quivering, wet, his tongue lapping them furtively – The one staring at my...”

Robb pulled him close, hands around Theon's face, open mouth but not too voracious, until Theon moaned, put his hands around Robb's neck and then Robb pushed forward, filling his mouth, deepening the kiss until their mouths felt like just one, aching for more, greedy like coal is for fire.

And Theon felt his spine thunderstruck and alight.

And the borders between them melted away, somehow, and Robb tasted so soft and so good. 

Theon moved his hands to Robb's hips and squeezed his ass. Robb slammed him against the wall, Theon groaned in discomfort and then Robb just picked him up as if he weighted close to nothing and... he pressed him against the sofa so softly. Theon moaned as Robb's hands caressed his skin, voraciously, almost ferociously, with an eagerness he shared but he found new to...

And then Robb moved away again, forcing himself to, half-panting.

He swallowed.

Theon frowned, blinked. Robb looked bigger and slightly hairier, but as Theon blinked a couple of times, the sensation was gone – arousal must have tricked him.

His glance fell on Robb's absolutely indeed bigger than when they started crotch.

He forced himself not to throw himself on the zip; he cleared his voice. “You made up for it...”, he murmured, still a bit breathless.

Robb's lip twitched in an aroused smile.

“I should probably go...”

Theon bit his lips, letting out a small groan, as frustrated and wet as they can be. His own cock was twitching under his trousers, creating a not little bump.

His eyes seemed to beg Robb to stay. His lips sure did, although without words.

Theon moved forward, bent and put his mouth on Robb's groin, making the redhead stiffen and arch, his hips now pulsing and shaking. Theon unzipped the jeans, and then ran his lips on Robb's tensed underwear – the scent, the fucking scent that Robb had, it was like the stench of sex itself, the scent of a life spent fucking like wild animals on that sofa, or that, at least, was what Thoen imagined, right before putting his mouth on Robb's cock, still with the fabric between them, as a kiss between two too pudic lovers, and sucking the tip through it, making a damp, hot stain and hearing Robb groan, growl even, in a low, dark roar, as he bit his lips.

He could feel Robb's cock swollen and harden under his tongue, the wet taste of desire igniting every nerve. Theon moaned, purred, pulling down Robb's pants and, eyes closed, rubbing himself against the thick, curly bush and the strong, thick base. He licked it, kissed it, devoted in his sacrilegious lust.

As he was about to open his eyes and then start to actually play, Robb's hand moved his face away and, with the other, Robb pulled his pants up. 

Theon tried to reply, but Robb didn't let him: in a few moments he was out of the door. He didn't even turn to look back.

Theon felt his stomach knot, as heavy as marble and unspent desires.

 

*

 

The day after Robb didn't come to the studio, and, while Theon was not the type of person who wanted to need anyone, working was impossible when everything distracted him and screamed of Robb's absence.

The lack of his scent seemed unbearable.

Theon opted to go to the coffee shop alone, get himself something strong and disastrous for his blood pressure and forget about Robb.

He was still staring at the menu, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

For a fraction of a second, he hated himself, realizing he had hoped it to be Robb's. Maybe he would have brought him chocolate again and say he’s sorry – and he got him flowers, nobody had ever gotten him flowers before, and fine, they were not his favorite but they were so red, as red as he had felt when Robb touched him. 

Instead it was this... thing.

Theon wrinkled his nose, nervously, staring at him.

“Hello. - the man said, flirty – Name is Ramsay.”

Theon raised an eyebrow, “Mine is 'don't even dream of it'.”, he then moved the stranger's arm and proceeded to walk towards the barista. Then he felt that hand on his ass.

“Do I need to send you on a direct fight to ‘fuck off’ or can you find the road on your own?”, he groaned, smirk cracking in anger, smug and yet ready to burst.

The man seemed just pleased with his rage.

“You'd look so pretty tied to my bed.”, he said.

Theon felt like something gooey, greasy and icky had drooled on his heart and was sure he was about to puke at the perspective.

“You wouldn't look pretty anywhere. - he grinned, furious – But maybe laying on the floor, you'd be bearable to the sight.”

And then the hand left his ass. But the man suffocated a scream.

“Grey Wind!”, someone shouted.

And there he was: Grey Wind, or wolf boy, or wonder jerk or however people wanted to call him. There he stood, all muscly and hairy, his eyes as yellow as nausea, and with his tacky silver suit.

But the red of his hairs made Theon sad that day. They did look a bit like Robb's.

“The gentleman said he doesn't fancy you. - he glared at Ramsay – Maybe you should leave.”

The guy rushed away with the most humiliated and angry look, but didn't speak up. He just looked at Theon in hate, as if it were his fault.

Theon swallowed, feeling a weird dirty peel on his skin.

He turned to the hero, “What has gotten into you? - he almost spit, raising his eyebrows – You've got nothing more useful to do than helping mere assaults in public spaces?”

“No crime is too little to deserve being stopped. - he mumbled, his growl as soft and low as it could be, as if he was trying to seem docile and harmless, it even seemed to Theon he smiled – You looked like you were in distress and I heard you.”

Theon snorted, smirking, “Whoa, heard me? Do you need to also sniff my ass? - he pointed a finger to his chest – I can handle myself, Copper.”

And he laughed. He laughed.

Crystalline, through the echo and the sharp fangs. He just laughed in his face.

As Theon noticed it was indeed a nice laugh, while being disgusted with himself and hating himself for the thought even crossing his mind, he also wanted to slam the dude's face on the ground. How dared he laugh in his face?

“I prefer Tod.”, he said.

“What? - Theon frowned, squinted his eyes – Are you fucking kidding me?”

The useless hero seemed to genuinely not get his anger, he tilted his head, “Did I do something wrong?”, he asked, blinking, naif.

“What are you still here for, exactly? - Theon snarked – Do I need to throw you a ball to have you go away?”

“Right now. - he growled, more calmly, almost with a sweet note – I'll get a cup of coffee.”

“Do you even have a sense of taste?”

“Well, I saved you, didn't I?”

Theon felt his cheeks light up. Then a weird shame came to him.

Sure, he was human, looked... mostly human, but the fangs, the claws, the hairs, the mask. The mask. The glittery silver outfit.

Red. Robb.

He felt the clench of shame, humiliation and anger in his heart. And then... absence.

He sighed, with a weird feeling inside him. Like sadness, but also emptiness. As if he missed a piece of something, a lung or a fraction of his liver, like he missed the nerves on his skin and he couldn't feel anything.

He missed the piece that would make him feel something.

The useless hero looked at him with a certain mortified look, then he raised Theon's chin.

“Don't make that face, I didn't mean to hurt you. - he gulped – I never did.”

Theon's lips quivered.

“It's not about you, self-centred attention freak.”, he mumbled, almost in a whisper, while he felt his eyes sting.

Robb.

Why has Robb disappear? Why hasn't he called?

The wolf boy smiled, in a way that looked like his pupil-less yellow eyes were about to cry, “You always have a good comeback. - he gave him a military salute – I'll get a cup coffee with you another time, then!”, he said, in a laugh, before running away, super-sped out of Theon's sight.

Theon's chest felt relieved as the horror in tight pants left, but he was still wondering what he did to make Robb run away. He sighed, then moved closer to a dumbfounded, eyes-out-of-the-sockets barista, blinking, wondering how that guy hadn’t even flinched as a superhero saved him, while some other people in the coffee shop had their jaws on the ground. Theon was so annoyed; of course, they sorta venerated the hairball, he didn't destroy  _their_ work!

Then a buzz.

He grabbed his phone as an addict his dose.

And his face lit up in a bright smile.

 

Robb:

first of all, I'm sorry, I panicked. You're really.... you tempt me, okay? Awkwardly a lot. And I don't want to like RUSH or act like this means nothing to me. I know you maybe have a lot of people wanting you, you probably have like a queue and I may look like a fool when I ask you to go slow. But I don't want to risk screwing up just because you made me hard. 

Robb:

that came out weird.... sorry

Robb:

lunch? Maybe?

 

Theon bit his lips, smiling.

 

Theon:

you're cute when you panic ;)

Theon:

you owe me something fancy though :P

 

Robb:

...so I got a 2nd chance?

 

Theon:

you're lucky you're cute <3

 

Theon put the mobile back in his pocket, grabbed his coffee and took a big sip.

He mumbled, thinking of a new piece, for when he’s finished with the current sculpture. With rotten flowers, maybe.

And the sweetest red he could manage to create.

When he went out of the coffee shop, it didn't even occur to him, somehow, that Grey Wind had helped him.

Why would he care for a superhero? He had something better, after all.

 

*

 

Theon smiled, coughed slightly – hand in front of his mouth – and then licked his lips. Robb was endearing, doing a long series of things that Theon wouldn't have found endearing done by anybody else on earth.

His hands trembled a bit when he poured the wine and stained the tablecloth slightly.

He was absolutely unable to curl the spaghetti around his fork and ended up with giant balls of green pesto pasta or a mess of little spaghetti trying to escape sure death.

He laughed loudly, snorted, at times interrupted him. But not like... thinking what he had to say was more interesting, not patronizingly, not meanly or carelessly, but out of some kind of genuine, absurd enthusiasm.

A contagious one.

Theon found himself chatting, loudly and quickly as he hadn't since elementary school, laughing at dorky, crappy jokes and speaking about his family.

Robb was the type of dog person that has a lot of siblings, loves kids and comic books. And Elvis.

He unironically liked Elvis Presley.

And Theon knew that Robb was in many ways the opposite of what he had ever imagined the – very, very few – times he imagined something serious at all; he couldn't even match clothes well. He kept showing up in different lumberjack shirts and pretty blue jeans the color of his eyes. And Theon smiled, from his Armani suit, feeling like it didn't matter at all.

Theon chuckled, “The only person with a worse sense of style than you is that wolverine.”

Robb raised an eyebrow, “You mean like... yellow and blue suit and Hugh Jackman or...?”

Theon smiled, “The wolf boy of the city. - Robb seemed nervous and Theon sighed – I don't like him either, don't worry.”

“...you don't? - Robb blinked – But he saved you today.”

Theon was not sure when he had said that but he was looking at his third glass of red wine and, honestly, the risotto was good enough to make him forget about a lot of things, anything except sex, basically.

“Yeah, well. - he groaned – He destroyed my public piece.”

“Uh?”

Theon hoped not to seem like he was complaining too much and looked away, but Robb took his hand, as to encourage him and his thumb brushed his knuckles gently and Theon's resistance melted like butter.

“I had a pretty important piece for the city. And he threw it. - a sigh – It blew to pieces.”

Robb's eyes went wide, he turned pale.

“I’d worked on it for two years. - Theon complained, stabbing a shrimp – And boom, clap, sound of my heart turning to fucking ashes.”

Robb held his hand tighter, “I'm sure whoever he is, he is terribly sorry.”

Robb's eyes seemed honest, but Theon couldn't believe him.

“Yeah, you, you'd be sorry. - he sighed – You're so sweet and... - he caressed Robb's wrist and forearm – He's just brawn.”

Robb smiled, let out something between a chuckle and a sigh and then moved forward, gently. His free hand caressed Theon's curls, moving a lock behind Theon's ear, while he bent and their lips brushed, in the softest kiss.

Theon felt his lips burn for more.

The drum of his heart echoed like thunder in his mind. He closed his eyes too and let Robb suck and bite his lips sweetly.

Robb smiled in the kiss.

“Then I'll apologize for him. - he promised, his Adam's apple jumping – What can I do to make it up to you for him?”

Theon laughed, “Hmmm. - he bit his lips, smirking – I have a couple of things in mind...”

Robb sucked his lips, “I hope they involve dessert.”

“I should be your dessert. - Theon winked, then moving away, slowly – But, yes, you owe me tiramisù.”

Robb chuckled, shaking his head.

“They used to say it was Casanova's favorite. - Robb explained – Some thought it had aphrodisiac properties.”

Theon let out a dark laugh, sipped wine and his eyes stared at Robb, glowing dark in desire.

“I don't think I’ll need that in your company.”

Robb felt his cheeks burn up, but he tried to hide it in the candlelit room and using the menu as a shield.

“Robb-”

“Yes?”, he blinked.

Theon's hand moved forward and he touched Robb's, delicately. He felt almost afraid for a moment.

Afraid of what he was starting to feel, how the things he liked felt... intimate.

True.

He swallowed.

“Elvis is not... so terrible.” was all that came out of his mouth.

But Robb stared at him, bright eyed and with a grin on his face, such a dorky grin.

As if Theon had told him the sweetest thing in the world.

And yet, every time Robb touched his glasses, Theon felt something weird tickling the back of his mind.

 


	2. 2.

**burn with me, heaven's on fire**

 

* * *

 

**2.**

 

* * *

 

Now that was the thing... he kind of really liked Robb? Like, a lot.

Like a bit too much, much more than planned?

Robb would come to take him in the mornings so they could go to the studio together, he would ask what Theon had dreamed about and share his own senseless night trips, he would ask questions that Theon didn't even think anybody would want to know about him – because why would his intimate feelings be important to others? But to Robb they were, somehow.

He was important to Robb, somehow.

Weird. New, mostly.

And useless things were important to Theon now.

He stopped eating pickles, because Robb – much like some kind of dog – seemed to be able to smell anything that had been in his mouth hours before and Robb downright _loathed_ pickles.

He dropped his usual perfume for one Robb seemed to like more. Robb had never asked him to do so, of course, or Theon wouldn't have done it, because that was Theon's approach to being asked to do something; but Theon did it anyway. He picked out a gently scented one and Robb smelled his neck with such a blissful expression.

He started buying peanut butter, despite his strong position on not having that kind of caloric food in his pantry, because Robb adored peanut butter and would sandwich anything with it.

They were basically always together.

Not in a suffocating way, more in a “I miss you after 20 minutes” way.

Theon started smiling a lot wider and a lot sweeter; Asha had noticed. And Robb started being way more confident in his work now that he had almost converted Theon to liking comics – almost being the keyword.

It was all good and nice, except.

They hadn’t fucked yet.

And, well, to many people that wouldn't have been a big deal – some people like waiting some time before. A month or more before throwing themselves into the naked land of moans.

But Theon... erhm, Theon was the kind of person for which the concept of “waiting” meant “to the end of the evening”. So he was going insane.

He managed to get some nice make out sessions, some rubbing, but, as if they were teens, the second Robb got seriously hard and the game was about to start, the boy would skyrocket away.

Theon started to wonder if the dude had a secret vow or something to not have sex until his balls would explode.

His own, for sure, were pretty close to.

But he didn't feel like insisting; first off, he loved being desired and he would have taken no satisfaction in having to convince someone to have sex with him, and secondly, Robb seemed so in love the rest of the time, so absolutely enthusiastic about every second spent together, that Theon was not sure why or how he could have ever thought there was a problem if the missing piece hadn't been sex.

Maybe this spoke more volume about Theon than about anything else.

He based himself on sex, a lot. It was... a thing he was good at.

A natural, or something like that. And practice made perfect.

He was nobody's “love of a lifetime” or “the best thing that had ever happened” to them, but he had been told plainly, many times, that he had been their “best fuck ever”. And, well, after a while he started thinking that maybe that was what he was supposed to be, that there was a certain glory also in being that.

It helped him feel good and measure himself highly.

It helped him feel... alive, too. As if this way he was someone who actually interacted with people, signed and marred their lives, even in the lewdest way.

Being told “I masturbated to you three times this month for fucks sake I need to fuck you again, even once” or “whoa I was about sure I'd get a fucking heart attack from how good you are” or “when you suck me I'm in heaven, not like a normal blowjob heaven but a royal, godly blowjob heaven” had been heroin to his self-esteem.

It was a dark, wrong pleasure, being a thing for someone else’s enjoyment.

Being good in ways that his family would have never approved of.

He remembered the teen years, the time in his house when the music coming from his headphones was a bit too loud and words echoed in his head –  _despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage_ – and the time outside spent between the legs of people he barely remembered the faces of, or with his lips on the thick mouth of a beer bottle, tasting the soft bitterness.

The taste of beer and come mixed up in his mind.

It felt good being used.

And then using them, exploiting the memories and the sensation they left behind, for art.

It was a good deal, in a way.

When he started selling, earning from his own issues – his father, his whole family, the abuse, the sex, the girls, the boys, the alcohol, the doubts, the traumas – it started feeling like there was something he was getting back for real from it all. Maybe, it was not all wasted time. Maybe, he had earned something from being that rat in the cage or a tied up whore. And with time the spine of his self-esteem was all built from the bones of sex and the marrow of fear. Self-loathing and self-loving were less distant than he thought them to be.

There was a time when he wondered if he had used pleasure to self-harm, after all.

But that was before Robb.

And after Robb things turned sweeter and honeyed and silly in a good way. But he had no sureness in that situation, no way of knowing Robb wouldn't have left or that he had left his mark on him.

As long as they didn't do it, he was not going to be unforgettable to Robb – or so he thought – and that scared him horribly.

How do you tie someone up without rope?

How do you hold someone close with just your hands?

Theon wondered if his soul was even slightly enough for him to dare hope to not be lost, washed away by everything. And then he wondered how stupid that would have sounded, had he said it, how arrogant. 

But he was so scared of losing Robb and, at times, the fear felt legitimate.

When Robb disappeared for hours, at times, untrackable, or when he rushed away without a destination, and on how many occasions he had almost gotten involved in city accidents.

Theon squeezed his own hands, knuckles getting white, wondering if he had someone else.

It was not like Robb, of course.

And yet, he didn't feel worthy of much more than that.

He placed the glasses and the bottle of wine on the table, checking the time. He sighed and took out his mobile phone.

 

Theon:

u late?

 

No answer. Of course.

He forced himself not to think badly. Robb was truly perfect except for that habit of disappearing and Theon didn't want to ruin it. Not because of that.

Also... what if he asked and Robb admitted he liked someone else?

He wouldn't have managed that.

“Am I bothering you?”

Theon blinked, raised his eyes. The voice echoed so familiar, despite a hoarseness and a darkness in it that made him unable to pinpoint it.

He hoped for Robb, somehow. But saw only him.

“You again? - he groaned – I don't feel like playing fetch today.”

He moved to the french window, though. That useless Grey Wind was standing there, on his balcony, with the stupidest expression his amber wolf eyes could give.

Theon bit his inner cheek, “What is it? Got a crush on me?”

The wolfboy laughed, and it felt feral, but also familiar, “Maybe, but mostly... - he handed Theon an envelope – This is for you.”

Theon frowned and took it, curious. He opened the envelope.

“...a contract?”

“The mayor wants to put a new statue where yours was. - Grey Wind mumbled – Sort of to celebrate my victory.”

“Whoa. - Theon scoffed, unimpressed – Overcompensation?”

It was clearly not an issue, but Theon decided that truth mattered less than effect.

The guy mumbled again, his canine teeth showing, his fur the color of hell. He looked more like a monster than a hero.

“I accepted only if you'd be the artist.”

Theon frowned, confused.

“I... - he swallowed – I realized I had never apologized for breaking that statue of yours and I actually felt very sorry about it.”

Theon's fingers hesitated on the paper.

He sucked his lips, trembled.

“Thank you.”

Grey Wind smiled, moving closer, “You seem to be waiting for someone, should I leave?”

Theon moved back, took out his phone. Robb still hadn’t replied.

Something stung way too deep in his stomach.

“Yes. - his eyes lingered on Grey Wind's hands, how sharp the claws looked and how warm the hands, how kind... but – You... were really kind.”

Grey Wind smirked wide.

“You're most welcome, citizen. - a softer smile, a voice gentler – It was my duty.”

“Is this why you do this? Moral duty? - he chuckled – What a kantian superhero we've got.”

A laugh and a growl.

“Family, honor, duty... what else is there that matters?”

“You speak of family but then you hit on people you save in coffee shops.”

“Only you.”, Grey Wind replied, a bit too quickly, and after seemed to curse himself for it.

Theon frowned, then chuckled, “You  _do_ have a crush on me, then.”

“Can't blame me, when you look like that.”

“Like what?”

Grey Wind bowed slightly his head, he was big, but leaning down a bit he could lower himself to Theon's height. His voice was a low roar.

“Very handsome.”

Theon felt his bottom lip quiver and his stomach twist.

He moved away, crossing his arms.

“I told you to go. - he scoffed, looking scared – I don't do dogs.”

Grey Wind shook his head, “I am human, you know?”

Theon's eyes stung. Very handsome. Why was Robb late again? Was he with a new boy? Very handsome.

It hurt. God, it hurt.

“Go. - Theon whispered, almost in a prayer – I'm waiting for my boyfriend, I don't want him to get any weird ideas.”

Grey Wind's hand raised and rubbed gently Theon's cheek.

“Don't cry, I'll go. I just wanted to see you again. - his voice sounded like he was promising something – He must be something, if you like him more than a hero.”

“I don't care for superheroes. - Theon snorted, his voice sounding all weird and cracked – There are scarier things than lizard guys or skinless men.”

Grey Wind furrowed his eyebrows, his yellow eyes glittered.

“And he protects you from those things?”

Theon held the mobile tighter.

“This is not a competition. - he swallowed – I don't know why you're so fixated on me, - Theon's voice turned sour, then confident, cocky – I mean, I get I am quite attractive, but if you think even for a second, I'd drop my boyfriend for you just because you show off defending people from crime, you must not have a clear perception of my compass. That man is the sweetest guy in the universe, he sees good in things that I swear to god should burn in the pits of hell, and he probably couldn't do half of the things you do but. - he bit his bottom lip – But I don't need Superman.”

Grey Wind sighed.

“So... Clark is enough?”

“Excuse me?”

“Just checking.”

Theon frowned, “I didn't understand the... - and the damned wolfthing jumped from the balcony, leaving Theon behind, annoyed, with a vein pulsing under his eye – Sense of the question, you fucking furry.”

 

Robb:

I'm outside? Can you open?

 

Theon blinked, looked down and saw him. On the ground. Smiling, waving, near the door. He had a bag and a stupid smile.

“Sorry for being late! - he laughed, cheerful – I wanted to get us cake.”

Theon smirked, looking down on him, “You're lucky you have cake hostage, you're chronically late.”

Robb had a look that Theon couldn't fully decipher... he seemed like he had never been happier in his whole life.

But had tears in the corners of his eyes.

 

*

 

“I have to be honest with you.”, Robb said, looking up.

Theon turned, lowered the fork that made an ungraceful clacking sound on the fish, and tried to pretend he didn't feel like his heart was going to die.

So that was it, wasn't it? Robb was about to dump him.

Well, there was always a first time... he wanted to think so, but his lungs felt like fire had melted them like T-1000 at the end of Terminator 2.

He cleared his throat, licked his lips. “Go on.” His voice didn't sound his own at all, but he didn't feel much alive. Whatever.

He was not sure how to be without Robb at all.

Robb breathed in, “I'm in love with you.”

“You sack of shit.”

Robb blinked, confused, “O...kay?”

Theon stood up, “This is not how you start this conversation. Didn't anyone teach you if you say things like ‘I have to be honest’ or ‘we've got to talk’ people are going to be anxious and scared, how the fuck did you think this was a good choice?”

He was almost shouting, but Robb just looked at him smiling, a bit awkwardly.

“Can I have an answer?”

Theon calmed down, bit his lips. His eyelids fluttered.

He looked down, his fingers caressed the stem of his wine glass.

“I think my show has given away my answer anyway. - he mumbled, half pouting, then breathing in and mumbling – I may have been thinking the same.”

Robb's smile was radiant. So bright.

But Theon's fingers trembled and his heart was just a robin that was going to burst with a fucking firework.

He wanted to be happy, but he had been so on the edge, on the verge, on the brink of losing him, totally and utterly, that even if it hadn’t happened, even if it hadn’t broken him, Theon could almost feel the tiny line of the crack that ran down his glass chest.

“...then why hadn’t we... - a sigh, he groaned, rolled his eyes – You _like_ men, right?”

Robb raised his eyebrows, “Most definitely. - then he looked embarrassed, he moved his hands together and fidgeted, his fingertips caressing his knuckles, rubbing them nervously – I do like you, Theon.”

“Then, yanno... - he moved his head side to side, his grin turning nervous and sharp and his cheeks a bit blushed in shame, because he had never had to ask, let alone _insist_ – Like, shag me? Bang me? Do I have to spread myself with rose petals on the bed for you to?”

Robb sucked his lips and sighed. His eyes seemed hurt.

He moved his hand softly, inviting Theon to calm down.

“I... should have told you before, I suppose.”

“...are you ace?”

“No, no. - Robb shook his head – Though, I suppose, it would be a reasonable guess.”

Theon frowned, moved closer, held Robb's hands.

A weird melody started playing in his head. He remembered the first time he ever had random sex, the dirty lights of a stupid bar with an electrocuted blue making everyone look like they were underwater. He remembered Heaven's on Fire raging behind his ears, a bit too loud for his taste. He remembered a thousand kisses he didn't care for and then lost, like cuts you think will leave scars but instead wash away with time.

And then he imagined Robb there, with him, in that stupid bar.

And for a moment he realized Robb's hair was the color of fire. And it hurt thinking about Grey Wind's fur, as the unwelcomed thought came through.

But he shook it off.

Robb's red hair – Robb's plump, swollen lips around him and then his hips striking him. 

He imagined how it would have been if he had had him since the start.

“Then why is it?”, his lips trembled.

_Why hadn’t you always been here? Why had you let me become someone who is all unbelieving and bitter?_

_And why don't you want to be here now?_

Robb swallowed, “Promise me you'll believe me.”

And then Theon blinked, “Uh?”

“I... - Robb sighed, groaned, breathed out – I am afraid of hurting you.”

Theon raised an eyebrow, perplexed, “Are you into sadism? I mean, we can work on it.”

“Ehm. - a frustrated growl, then Robb scratched his nape – I... tend to lose control.”

Theon blinked. Now that sounded both intriguing, if Robb was referring to losing the Country boy act and getting a bit rough, but could also mean something quite bad.

“What are we speaking about?”

Robb's voice made the most guttural sound Theon could imagine human vocal chords to make. His Adam's apple seemed to squeeze and jump.

He groaned, slowly, “I... tend to get a little out of control towards the...end, and I'm... a bit stronger than I seem.”

Theon blinked, “What is it? You broke someone's ass? - he half joked – I'm no virgin, I'm sure that it-”

“I broke a hip bone.”

“What.”

Robb turned a color similar to his hair and Theon found himself half confused and half aroused. He couldn't lie: the idea of Robb being strong was not... unpleasant. He was not the type that lives for muscles – he quite liked the little tummy Robb had – but the idea of someone being strong enough to lift him or throw him around … 

Then again, a bone.

“How did... you? - a chuckle – You look like the most harmless thing on earth.”

Robb sighed, “It's... well, - he looked so mortified, it seemed like he was going to say something but he shook his head, bit his lips, threw the thought away like scrapped paper – I don't want to hurt you.”

Theon sucked his lips, thinking.

Of course, he was not sure how that was possible. It sounded stupid. But Robb was not the type to lie.

And if there was a wolf man in town, maybe he could have had a bit of a super strength, like just a minimum or something. Why not. Made sense.

If there were super power people maybe there were people with almost super powers, like lame editions.

He looked away, unsure of how to even stare at Robb after that.

He wondered if he should crack a joke, but, for once, his sense of humor failed him.

He couldn't help but wonder if they could have done it differently, if the problem was just Robb losing control, maybe he could have just slipped out of Theon before losing it – at least, Theon thought, I would feel him inside finally – or maybe he could have given Robb a handjob or a blowjob, after tying his hands to avoid a strong push. Or anything.

By then, Theon just wanted to make love to Ro... well, fuck.

“We can find a way. - Theon murmured, his hand caressed Robb's – I can't be without touching you forever.”

Forever or a day longer, for the matter.

A day was forever.

Robb stood up and moved to Theon, “There is another thing I have to tell you...”

Theon's fingers ran over Robb's cheeks, the soft, tender stubble, the big lips, a little scar he didn't remember seeing before. He trembled, his fingertips hesitating on the verge of that mouth and on his own mouth whispers not finding the strength to become sound.

“Unless it's about this topic, it can wait.”, he almost begged, but the pitch was an order.

He pulled Robb by the shirt down and closed the distance between them in a kiss, as wet and sloppy as they come when urge burns on skin and haste sets fire to the lungs. Need trembled in Theon's nerves and made his fingers twitch – blood pulsed through them and his head became dizzy from a joy full of fear.

Fear of losing, fear of letting go.

Robb's hand held him by the waist, almost cupping him in his arms, in a protective grip.

Theon closed his eyes, but Robb still moved the hand and turned off the lights.

Theon pulled him to the sofa and Robb let him lay down.

A chuckle.

“What is it? You don't want to be seen? - Theon smiled, then caught his mouth in his own again – Do you have a very embarrassing tattoo?”

Robb let out a small laugh and kissed Theon back, then lowered to his neck, kissing and biting, nibbling like a wolf about to eat his prey. His hands ran on Theon's lean body, searching for him, for the heat only he had.

“I needed you too.”

“You made very sure I would doubt it.”, Theon commented, half in a panted chuckle, his lungs breathless as a bite and a suck left him in the purest bliss. His neck felt like a land of shivers for Robb to get drunk on through the bruises he left behind.

Theon's hands ran on Robb's back, his nails digging into the skin.

“I love you.”, Robb murmured.

And it seemed to Theon that his voice got darker and more like gravel and smoke with every turn.

“Behind. - Theon panted out, his voice a tad higher and more melted than he would have wanted it to be – I like it better.”

Robb's laugh echoed dark and his lips felt so soft against his ear and neck, Theon was not even sure how it was the same person. 

Robb's hands moved to Theon's shirt and pulled it. Theon slapped the hand – did it get bigger? The mind plays stupid tricks – and his fingers ran to unbutton it; Robb helped too, his own fingers overlapping with Theon's, accompanying his movements. But as he was bending to take it off, Theon just felt Robb's strong arms, the way he bent him, turned him around like he weighted nothing more than a feather. He twisted him so easily, and Theon found his wrists half-trapped in the shirt and his crotch rubbing on the leather sofa, half-hard already.

Robb was behind him now, his lips were on his back, brushing it as softly as the moonlight, and his teeth grazed on Theon's shoulder blade, making his knees weak.

And he was, he really felt like, heaven set alight.

And it was fire, just fire, melting and pooling inside his bones.

Theon could feel Robb's hard-on through his jeans, pressing against his still-sadly-dressed ass.

He bit his lips, cursing himself for how much he didn't feel like losing time.

Robb's mouth descended slowly down his back turning skin to scorching desire, Theon had never felt so touch-starved as right then, being touched and still being left feeling so desperate.

Robb's palm caressed Theon's cock through the thin fabric layer, making him flinch and shiver and rock his hips back, right against Robb's hard crotch. Blood pooled into his groin, his loins screamed in need.

And Robb lowered his pants, slowly, kissing his hips so gently and then biting into them voraciously, sucking, dragging lakes of livid purple onto the surface of Theon's skin, marking him.

His touch was overwhelming, his mouth so warm. Electric thrills rode Theon's spine.

Robb bit his ass cheek, sinking his teeth into its softness and then licked it, and down on the inner tight, teasing him, getting so close to his cock but instead neglecting it and sucking Theon's swollen balls. Theon moaned, squirmed, his legs about to crumble and lose any stability, when Robb's hand took his cock again and started jerking him off.

His hands felt so big... he, the whole of Robb, seemed and felt huge. Maybe it was the night, the darkness, or the way Theon could feel him everywhere, so good he could almost faint in bliss.

His trousers dropped completely and the sound of the zip lowering stirred the blood in Theon's veins. Soon, he felt Robb's thick, heavy cock, rubbing under his own. He let out a frustrated whine, feeling so betrayed and empty at the idea of Robb's erection not entering him, but soon his mouth could just drop moan after moan, wetter and needier, as Robb started moving, his hips moving against Theon's, their cocks frotting and pleasure riding through his nerves.

Theon's legs faltered, but Robb held him by the hips, tight, bit too tight, it didn't matter.

Theon's knuckles turned white as he held onto the sofa, clenching a pillow, wondering how it could feel that good, something so simple. But the sensation of Robb bucking against him, his cock rubbing on his own, their heads brushing, and yet his hole feeling so deserted and in need, turned Theon daring.

“Ro. - a gulp, a moan – Obb. Robb. Move.”

A weird laugh, almost tense and buried away. Almost a low roar.

“I don't trust myself inside you.”

“Shut up! - Theon half-screamed in a moan, trying to align himself with Robb's shaft – I need you in.”

He felt it, pressing against it, and then felt the burn of it widening his hole. He cursed, bit his lips.

A strangled chuckle, “Please, get the lube and get in.”

Robb's hands seemed to tremble on him, the pressure got bigger, but Theon couldn't bother to stop feeling aroused.

“I'm sorry.” is all he heard.

Robb moved a hand, a slicked wet fingered entered him and Theon chocked. It hurt – it was wide, wider than he remembered fingers being, maybe it was two? - and Robb's groans started to become gravelling and murkier. Robb didn't enter yet, instead started moving his hips faster, his cock and Theon's rubbing tight, pleasure riding them needier, and then the finger pressed on Theon's prostate, hit it, once, once again. Theon chocked, moaned.

He didn't want to come like that, not from a finger, not without him in.

He wanted, for the first time in his life, he wanted something... somewhat classic? Somewhat … resembling those cheesy romantic straight movies where they both came together, and one welcomes the other's come in so well and fuck he had even forgotten condoms... he hated condoms but he should have and then it all felt white and hard and electric. He moaned harder, clenched the sofa, and came, over Robb's cock and around his finger, tightening around it, although it felt so weird now, and big and... for a moment, the afterglow tasted foreboding .

He felt his come gushing softly from him, he felt Robb's cock still hard, pulsing against his.

Then a half-growl.

And Robb's fingers were so hard and deep in his skin. The pressure hurt, bruising. He remembered the hip breaking, he stiffened, he wanted to stay up, to come again, to have Robb in him, to make him come and scream his name.

His hips hurt. But he was not scared.

Robb would have never hurt him, not willingly – and he had played too much with willing cruelty to be afraid of the clumsy kind.

“I'm so sorry...”, Robb said again, while his finger held Theon close but he moved his crotch away.

Something cut, it burnt.

And then something hit his head. And it all went black.

The last thing he remembered was being sure of still being empty, the coldness of having Robb move away, and the sensation of warm blood dripping from his hip. 

 

*

 

He woke up to Robb sitting in the chair next to the sofa. He felt a stinging pain into his hip, and, as he hissed, Robb looked at him, petrified and mortified.

As if it could be his fault.

“What happened? - Theon held his head, pulsing with a headache that rang like a bell – Ouch...”

Robb moved closer, his hands moving to Theon's head, “I'm sorry.”

“You keep saying that... - Theon mumbled, confused – I don't get it. - he felt pain seizing his hip, he looked it over and saw it was bandaged but some blood had stained the white cloth – Did you help me?”

“It was the minimum I could do.”

Theon felt still dizzy, confused, as things didn't really add up.

“Look. I... - Robb took off his glasses and sighed, sitting next to Theon – I hurt you. I stopped as soon as I saw I was losing control, but... the bruises and the blood, that's my fault.”

Theon shook his head, “You didn't have anything to cut me with, it doesn't make sense. - a weird sensation pulsed through him. Robb looked so much smaller than before – I think I have a fever, to be quite honest. I'm having weird sensations since the whole day.”

“Theon...”, Robb's voice echoed low. His eyes shone low and blue in worry.

Theon's smirk tilted, “Yes, pretty?”

“I'm so sorry.”

“You’ve said that like a thousand times. - a chuckle – Look, I don't get how you'd cut me, but if you did, it's fine. You... keep apologizing. You stopped. That's all that counts.”

“I almost went too far.”

“You didn't. - Theon's words got heavy and firm like marble – You didn't mean harm and when you saw it was too much for me, you stopped. And I wanted you to continue, so you were even more careful with me than I was myself.”

Robb still looked upset, staring at his hands like all strength dropped from him.

His lips twitched, his lungs filled with a breath he sighed out in defeat.

“Robb? - Theon moved closer, holding the hands in his own – Don't panic. - his voice didn't seem to reach him, though, so he moved a curl behind Robb's ear – I had people hurt me, Robb, willingly. - he swallowed, avoiding Robb's eyes as he turned, he bit his lips stubbornly – I don't want to dwell into it, but my family... is not like yours. It's not nice and happy. You cutting me god knows how or using too much pressure in your hands, that is a matter solved by a pair of nice handcuffs or pretty restraints, not a panic attack.”

Robb chuckled, “Since when are you the level-headed one?”

“One needs to be. - Theon smirked – I am not good at it, but if you freak out, I'll pretend to be a functioning adult.”

Robb held his hands and looked at Theon, waiting for him to turn too; as he did, Robb could see tears pulling at the shiny reddened corners of his eyes. Then Theon closed them, moving in, and kissed Robb softly.

Gently.

Almost delicate.

Robb caressed Theon's hair and ear, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss, parting just to make their soft, wet lips meet again.

Then it stung.

“Theon. - he whispered – I have to... tell you something else.”

“Tomorrow...”, Theon begged in a whisper, eyes closed, kissing him again, ever so softly. 

Robb's lips were the dreams he had as a child.

Feeling at home, feeling loved, feeling enough. 

For the night, sorrow was not welcome.

 

*

 

But Robb was not there, that time, when he woke up. Theon remembered falling asleep hugging, Robb caressing his wounded hip, kissing his forehead, and him thinking how hot Robb was, temperature-wise, like a furnace, and how pleasant it was to put his frozen feet on someone.

It felt cold without him.

And a strong, loud noise thundered far away.

Theon stiffened, moving towards the balcony. Flashing lights and sirens filled the air with thundering discomfort, burning his eyes and ears. There was also a disgusting scent in the air, like something rotten or burnt – it seemed to get worse and worse – so that, between all of that sensorial shit, a headache came pulsing through his skull, burning, making him feel like his cerebrospinal fluid was sizzling and panfrying his brain golden brown.

He turned off the lights he fell asleep with – hoping to find some relief from the migraine – wasn't there a song he had liked? Then again?  _This heaven gives me migraine_ ? And at the thought of heaven he felt something twist inside his stomach. Robb was not there, so he must have been outside.

Had he arrived home? Had he gotten stuck somewhere?

That boy seemed to magnetize problems and London was not really safe lately.

His head pulsed further.

Theon was sort of okay with dying but not because of a headache and for sure not without understanding what the fuck was going on. And where Robb was.

He turned on the TV, searching for news, which didn't take much since every channel seemed to have a sudden emergency report: there had been multiple robberies and bomb threats, so everyone had to stay home.

Usual suspects blabla bad guy blabla wolfboy had not been seen yet... Theon felt a cramp in his heart, knowing that, yes, he was a bit worried also for that guy, somehow. He supposed. But Grey Wind could manage himself while Robb... Robb. If something happened to Robb, Theon was not sure how he would have felt and that scared him to the core.

He had to find him.

He took his coat and bag, jumping down the stairs, running through the streets. The air was still filled with the most irritating light, flashing all over, and the scent of something resembling burnt meat hit him in the stomach.

Robb's mobile rang for nothing, but Theon didn't plan to stop calling.

There was something wrong with him, probably, to be suddenly so clingy and involved, but the idea of Robb getting squished by a falling piece of cement or... He looked in his bag, wondering if he even had anything to help him, in case.

A chisels and gouges set.

He had never felt his work to be more useless than right then.

He sighed, holding his head, as a new pulsing pain cut through it.

That smell came up again, disgusting like... rotten eggs? He bent over and puked into a trashcan, his stomach jumping into his ribcage and his lungs emitting a low whizzle of disgust. Theon could feel his heartbeat getting worse.

It was way too much to be the result of bad sleep. He had never felt so sick, not even when hungover.

He looked around: people were hurrying but they seemed barely bothered by the lights around, nobody seemed to put their hands on their mouths or noses because of the scent.

… they couldn't smell it, could they?

“Oh fuck. - he blinked, licking his lips, mumbling to himself, then fidgeting to grab the phone – Please, please, answer...”

“Hello?”

“Asha! Thank god... I have... - he coughed – I have a question for you. How bad would you say it's outside?”

Asha frowned, “There is an emergency, people are going to their homes. You should stay in.”

“Okay, but the sirens, the smell, the lights, you feel those, right?”

“What? - she sounded worried now – No, just... pretty sure bomb threats should be enough to convince you into staying home?”

Theon bit his lips, breathed in.

“Okay, so... maybe I'm hallucinating.”

“Again? - she shouted – Theon, tell me you haven’t returned to doing that kind of stuff.”

“No, it's not that. - he put a hand on his head – I'm … I see like flashlights and sirens, like those from the riverfront, when we were kids, remember?”

“Have you been drinking?”

“And I keep smelling rotten eggs, I just don't get why-”

“Rotten eggs? - she scoffed, worried – Like Hydrogen sulfide?”

“Refresh my memory. You know, I'm better at minerals than acids.”

“It's a gas. - Asha sighed, still not pulling away the worry – It's highly toxic so if you smell it, you should go away.”

“Where is it found?”

“Why do you care? Just get away from there.”

“I don't think it's... here. - Theon realized how he had sounded – Look, I don't have time to explain, I, this sounds bad, but help me.”

“Paper making, craft processes, dyes, pesticides, leather...”

“Leather, of course! - he laughed, bitter and mechanical, and Asha felt a pang of pain through her chest, which Theon ignored – Ash, is there a leather tannery or something near the port?”

“The Bolton one. - she mumbled – Are you... close to there?”

“Not yet. I... I've gotta go.”

“Theon! - she screamed, this time the thrill of worry shattering like glass in her throat – Please, go home, you don't feel well, you're delirating. I'll go if you need me to.”

“No. - he said, firmly, trying to ignore the twist of guilt – I... I have to check if Robb is there.”

“Robb... your boyfriend Robb?”

“He’s disappeared. - he whispered, then overwhelmed by a wave of worry – I... I think I'm- I know it doesn't make any sense, please, don't think I'm crazy.”

“I never thought that of you.”

“Or high or stuff.”

“That's harder. - she admitted. But then she realized that was her only hope for that call to not end – You think you're... smelling where he is or something?”

“I know it doesn't make sense, but... - then a thought crossed his mind – Unless...”

“Unless what?”

He didn't seem that strong at first, but he got so when losing control.

He did also get bigger sometimes. And he felt... hairier at times.

The cut on his hip where his thumb was supposed to have been resting.

No, it made no sense.

“Unless what Theon?”

“I don't know, Ash. - he murmured, - I... please, I have to go to the port.”

Asha groaned, sighed.

“Where are you now?”

 

*

 

“Are you going to explain now what the fuck is going on?”, Asha asked, trying to focus her eyes on the road, while also giving her younger brother the Look of Concern™ .

Theon kept looking through his bag, moving chisels, gouges, brushes and … whoa, a block of pyrite that was going to be useless in a very unique way.

“I don't know, okay? - he shouted – Can't you be a supportive sister and just drive me there?”

“Theon Greyjoy, I'm being a supportive sister by driving you to the fucking port while there is a fucking bomb threat and I should be home with my girlfriend.”

“Oh. - he blinked – How is Jeyne?”

“She was doing better before I left home to come babysit you.”, she mumbled, then turned to him.

He put a cigarette in her mouth and lit it. “Here.”

“Better. - she cursed, looking around – I swear to god, this boy better be here or I'm going to kick his ass to the moon.”

Theon put a hand on his head and picked up a cigarette too.

Asha turned, “Still nauseated? Is it getting worse?”

“No.. - he whispered – Paradoxically, it's getting better. - he mumbled – … do you think something’s happened to him?”

“I don't know but why would he be here in the first place?”

“Skinless man.”

Asha turned to him, almost driving against a wall, rotated the wheel in panic and then turned again, panicked, “What does this have to do with him?”

“Oh, c'mon. Leather industry owned by a family who’s brand logo is a skinless man and a super villain called skinless man must be connected.”

“Look, Bolton is more or less the correspondent of herpes, but isn't he too old to do gymnastics against a werewolf?”

“Maybe his son.”

“Or maybe you read too many comic books while taking pills.”

“I'm not on drugs, Ash, for fucks sake, this is exactly why I didn't come to you the first time. This is the 19th of March all over again!”

“Oh sorry if I worry for you, you disastrous mouse-sized whoop-ass with no sense of your own limits.”

Theon crossed his arms, groaning, “I can't believe I called you, I was so stupid.”

“I'm driving you, aren't I?”

“If you complain while doing it, you make me feel guilty, the therapist told you that- you can't guilt trip me.”

“I'm not guilt tripping you, Theon, I'm worried! You said you had visi-”, she hit the brakes and went quiet.

At the port, flashlights welcomed them, blinding them as soon as they hit their eyes, just to then disappear again in the dark, night sky.

Further, the low bellow and shriek of sirens.

Asha turned off the car, licked her lips. “There are dad's rifles in the back.”

“What. - Theon mouthed, shocked – Do you go around with hunting rifles in your car?”

“Maybe. For emergencies.”

“What are you, Dean Winchester?”

“I'll pretend I didn't hear that. - she mumbled, a nervous smirk rising on her lips – I hope this boyfriend of yours is worth this.”

“Wouldn't you do the same for Jeyne?”

“I wouldn't involve you.”, she replied, sour.

“You showed up.”, he pointed out.

“I'm the older sibling, I don't really have a choice.”

She opened the doors of the car, Theon following her quite obediently for once.

The Bolton factory was, luckily or unluckily, pretty close. And unguarded, which, of course, made it creepier. They entered through a backdoor, and were welcomed by a lot of industrial scent and weird, terrifying images in the night of machinery and animal skin. Theon considered becoming a vegetarian in that moment, more out of fear than ethics. Asha just hoped that she wouldn't have had to shoot anything.

And then, Theon smelled it.

Rotten eggs. And blood.

He started running through the dark, moonlit corridors of the factory, almost tripping, and Asha followed him cursing, looking around. 

Theon started feeling weak, his eyes and throat stinging, but Asha seemed to barely smell anything, instead. He wondered if it made sense for his sense to be... more effective? Than hers?

He found a door at the end of the main corridor and hit it – he could smell blood coming from inside. Sweet and metallic. And a lot.

“Move.”, Asha ordered, before aiming and shooting the handle off.

Theon entered the room without thanking her, looking in the dark and then seeing him, there, in the corner of the room.

“Robb?”, he trembled, moving to him, holding him.

He had blood coming from his jaw, probably a couple of teeth missing, bruises over his face, and was basically fainting. He wheezed.

“Baby... - Theon caressed his face – Baby, what have they done to you?”

He saw Robb's lips tremble. They looked chapped and dry.

Theon looked at him: he seemed too weak for someone who had been just beaten up and he remembered Robb being quite strong.

“What's this?”, he whispered, seeing something on his neck, like a collar.

A collar that fit on him large, as if it were made for a bigger neck, but still.

It was in some kind of mineral.

“Is this... - he frowned – Is this thing toxic?”

Asha moved to him, “Theon, we have to go. Take him and let's go.”

“Wait.”

He opened his bag, found the biggest chisel he had and placed it against the collar, aiming by side to make sure not to risk to cut Robb. He swallowed.

It was harder than marble, but not much more... mostly Theon felt his hands tremble, staring at Robb, breathing heavily under him. As the collar crushed open, falling on the floor, Robb pulled up, like someone emerging from water, breathing again.

He took a deep breath, filled his lungs, and stared in the void in front of him terrified, vulnerably hit right then by the fact he had been so close to not breathing again.

Theon stared at him, confused, eyes wet and red.

“What... what is this thing?”

Asha picked it up and put it in her pocket, “We will see. - then looked at Robb, who was still breathing heavily – Can you walk or do you need help?”

Robb shook his head, “I have to go.”

“What? - Theon slammed him down, pinning him to the corner – Are you fucking joking? You almost died two minutes ago.”

Robb stared at him, right then, as if only then he could process.

“Theon? What are you doing here?”

“Being the collar-opener who doesn't get an explanation, apparently.”

Asha looked at them, then behind herself, nervously, “Guys, we should really go.”

Robb tried to stand up, but he flinched, his leg hurting. Theon grabbed him, putting an arm around his shoulders.

“Please. - he whispered – Stop making me worry.”

Robb let out a small chuckle, “I'm sorry... I didn't realize that-”

“That I'd worry for you? - Theon shouted, suddenly a bit too exposed for his own taste – How stupid are you?”

“How did you know how to find me?”

Asha started moving back, and the boys followed her, Robb leaning on Theon, feeling his leg pulsing painfully. 

Theon hesitated, striving not to say anything that would make him sound crazy.

“I... it was like a sixth sense.”

Robb bit his lips, smiled, then looked over Theon's face, so embarrassed and suddenly shy. The cockiness had been washed away by fear and care.

Then Robb's eyes fell on Theon's neck, full of hickeys from before.

Had... he really marked him?

He had never marked anyone like that, so deeply. He wondered if maybe he did form a connection, after all.

“It's... wolframite.”, he mumbled.

Theon turned and stopped, blinked.

“...you know what that thing is?”

Robb sighed, let out a weak breath. Asha looked at both of them, confused, but remained silent.

“It makes me weak. That was enough to kill me.”

“Are you allergic to it or something?”

“...sort of.”

“But how did the Boltons know and why do they want to hurt you?”

“Not exactly me.”, Robb admitted.

He wanted to speak up but words felt deep and heavy like iron resting on his tongue. They dragged him down. He stared into Theon's eyes and then turned in shame.

“I should have told you before, but... I was afraid of your reaction.”

“Oh, please, tell me you're not in a cartel.”, Theon let out, distressed.

Asha grabbed Theon by the arm, “We have to go now, do you think you could two could have this talk in the car?”

“But-”

“I have to go, Theon. - Robb said, interrupting them – I'll come to your apartment later, I promise, but right now you have to go.”

“I'm not leaving you alone again, you almost died. - he shouted – And you're not leaving me without an explanation.”

“Bolton is coming, I can smell him.”

Theon twitched, “ _Smell_ him?”

Robb held Theon's wrist, stared in his eyes. That raw blue never seemed harder.

“Do you trust me?”

A glimpse of green shone through them.

Theon blinked, confused. Hurt.

Don't label my inability to let you risk your life as lack of trust, he begged mentally.

“I don't have a choice, do I?” was what came out.

Robb smiled, sad, “I love you.” then he looked over to Asha “Go in the car, take him home, I'll be there soon.”

Asha nodded, pulling Theon away. Theon’s feet felt heavy and stumbling, as if his ankles had turned fragile at the idea of leaving Robb behind.

“I should go back... - he whispered, arriving at the car, while Asha was putting the rifle back – I should go back to him.”

“Don't say bullshit. - she warned him, worried – Don't.”

He trembled, breathing hard. He thought again of his eyes, of those words.

I love you. He hadn’t said it back.

“I have to go bac-”

And then he fell to the ground, screaming. A pain similar to being torn by flames ran through him. He screamed, sinking his nails into the paint of the car.

Asha came next to him, getting the rifle ready.

“What's going on? - she shouted, then looked at her brother's leg that bled through the jeans – What the fuck is going on?”

“Oh, darling, you're introducing me to family already?”

Asha raised her head, just to see a man dressed in a costume of human flesh and muscles exposed, long black hair and lips like worms fucking.

She held onto the rifle.

“Shush, honey. - a chuckle – What do you think you can do with that?”

Then Asha felt it too. The burn, the sizing pain.

Her hand started bleeding, copiously, dripping blood, as part of the skin seemed to be cut, lifting slowly. She screamed and pressed the trigger, one, two times, then it became too hard, her thumb was naked and exposed and she was biting her lips to the pulp not to puke, eyes filled with salty tears.

“Now. - a grin – Tell me where you hid my wolf pup.”

“I'm here, Skinless. Let them go.”

Asha blinked, staring. Now even the wolf man was there? What the hell was... oh. She looked over at Theon, half-fainted in a pool of blood.

As the Skinless man turned to Grey Wind, she threw Theon on the car seat and prepared to drive away.

“Oh, no, I don't think so.”, the man grinned again and Asha saw more of her skin come off from her hand, almost falling on its own.

The air burnt and stung so deep she almost wished to cut her fingers off.

She tried to hold the wheel just with her left, staring with watery eyes at Theon, panting in pain next to her.

“Let them go, Ramsay.”

“You know, we could be civil and refer to each other with our stage names? But no, you have to be rude, don't you?”

In a moment, Grey Wind's claws hit the Skinless man, cutting through his hand and then his chest, but the other seemed to resist, skinning part of Grey's arm. Asha shivered, tried to regain composure and then shook Theon awake.

“Theon, Theon, please, Theon, wake up... - she looked at the bleeding leg – Fuck, I have to take you to the hospital, fuck, fuck.”

Theon's eyes fluttered open slowly.

“Robb... Robb is still inside.”

“Robb will be fine. We need to go.”

Theon stared at his bloody jeans, “Fuck...”

“Yeah, fuck. - Asha said, getting the rifle and handing it to Theon – Shoot him if he tries to move his hand towards us, I'll drive away.”

“Is that... Grey Wind?”

“Apparently.”

He stared at him, confused. He came again to save him, from nothing, from thin air.

For no reason at all.

And he was fighting for him...

And Robb? Robb had disappeared again.

Theon stared, horrified, as the Skinless man started to pull off the skin from Grey Wind's arm. The wolf man howling and shrieking, gnawing through the other's shoulder trying to bite it off, to make him desist. Grey Wind's fur the color of fire.

Fire.

Theon looked at his bag.

“Drive towards them.”

“What?”

“Drive towards them, Asha, for fucks sake.”

Asha clenched the stirring wheel, realizing if she had to die, doing so while trying to make an omelet out of a super villain with terrible fashion choices was something she of course could sign up for. She glanced at Theon, who was holding very close his bag.

Asha bit her lips and obeyed, pressing over the pedal, praying she wouldn't have to regret it.

Grey left the Skinless' shoulder, blood on his fangs, but feeling his own arm pulsing in pain. He flinched, almost tripped. Pain ran through him and the scent of his own blood made him dizzy.

The Wolframite was still having some effect on him.

From his mouth, he coughed blood, clenching then his jaw to keep in a scream as he felt skin trying to lift again. He was weak still, he could feel that, even before transforming... but which choice did he have?

Ramsay Bolton lifted him by the neck, raising him up from the ground.

“I'll make a nice fur coat with you...”

Then something hit him, quick as it could come, big, hitting his head and making him fall and hold it tight. Grey Wind blinked, then looked on the ground.

A piece of the stone Theon used for the sculpture.

The car brakes shrieked and Theon opened the door in front of him, “Jump in, now.”

Grey Wind obeyed, quickly, and Asha was thankful for that, driving faster than she should have ever had. Theon turned to Grey, worried, panting.

“Are you okay?”

“I am not sure a stone can stop him for long. - he admitted, breathless – But thank you.”

“You're the most disastrous hero ever. - Theon shut him off – It will give you time to regenerate. Thank your stupid red fur that made me remember I had pyrite in the bag.”

“I'm... glad for this connection I'm missing?”

“Could you two not discuss your different linguistic backgrounds right now? - Asha shouted at them, looking behind – That dude will be following us soon, what's the plan?”

“He must have a weakness.”, Theon observed.

“Yes, but it would be cowardly of me to use that.”

“...excuse me?”

“I wouldn't be different from him if I used his type of tricks. - Grey Wind proclaimed, crossing his arms – I will beat him in a fair way.”

Theon's eyes thunder bolted him.

“Excuse me? My leg is fucking bleeding and my sister has a hand that looks like it came out of a horror movie. You are half a fur coat. You are going to use every fucking dirty trick in the book, or I will kick your ass to fucking Saturn, am I clear or am I clear?”

Grey blinked, dumbfounded.

Asha chuckled, “That's my little brother.”

Theon mumbled, “Now, what could that dude be defeated with?”

Grey Wind sighed, licked his lips, “Setting him on fire?”

“Now that you said it, it does sound a bit drastic. - Theon admitted – Anything else?”

“...how is your leg?”

“Not as bad as Asha's hand. - he said, looking away, his lips trembled with a question he didn't dare to ask – Thank you for saving us out there.”

Asha glanced at both of them in the rear window.

“I'm going to make a stop at my house, so we can disinfect and stuff. - she fumbled – You two also need to talk.”

 

*

 

Theon sneezed.

The cold had got to him, after all.

Jeyne offered him a big cup of tea and one for Grey Wind, before going back to her bedroom to finish bandaging – and probably furiously making out with – Asha. As she left, Grey Wind stared stubbornly down, trying to not have to face Theon.

Then a swallowed croak.

“Where is he right now?”

Grey blinked, “Who?”

“Robb. - Theon caressed the rim of the mug, though he just felt like breaking it – He's helping you or something, isn't he? Do you two know each other? - he bit his bottom lip, making it draw blood – You know they kidnapped him to get to you? And then you saved _me_? Did you make sure he was alright before?”

“Oh. - he blinked – No.”

“No? You left him behind?”, this time Theon shouted.

Then Grey Wind placed one of his hands against Theon's soft cheek and caressed it slowly. On his lips a little smile.

Theon felt his stomach sick. That man had saved him, hadn't he?

He was supposed to be thankful, to feel close to him... and yet, feeling like that also left him with this sensation of being the worst person alive.

Grey Wind bent forward, closing his eyes.

And welcomed a big slap on his face.

“I am talking about my boyfriend, you fucking jerk, stop hitting on me.”

“Ouch. - Grey massaged his own cheek – I'm sorry, I just thought you would have guessed by now...”

Theon stood up, throwing the tea of the ground, “Guess what?”

“It's me, Theon.”

Slowly, his face started changing, softening.

The hairs around retracted, so did his claws and jaw. The yellow eyes turned blue. That blue.

His muscles also slightly deflated and soon Theon could see all he didn't want to.

“Robb?”

“The wolframite weakens me. I managed to stay transformed until they left to go check their plans elsewhere, but... I was close to … - a sigh, a mortified look – You saved my life.”

“You... - his lips quivered, his eyes shone in anger and sadness, betrayal even, perhaps – You.”

Robb stared at him, wounded too, realizing the weight of his silence.

“You risked your fucking life.”

“I know, I'm sorry.”

Theon shook his head, “I can't believe you didn't tell me something like this, I'm not some helpless thing, I deserve to know if my fucking boyfriend is risking his life.”

Robb let out a small smile. “I'm taking you're not breaking up with me?”

Theon glared, then his look softened and he moved closer to him, holding him tight.

“I love you too.”

Robb smiled, lifted Theon's chin and moved in for a kiss.

Finding Theon's fingers blocking him.

“Uh?”

“You still broke my statue.”, Theon pointed out, serious.

“...you're so fucking petty.”, Robb commented, with a wide smile.

“Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling, I'll always be petty.”, Theon half-sung, earning back a chuckle and then, finally, a kiss. Robb's hand caressed his curls and pulled him closer, Theon closed his eyes and felt happiness wide and light in his chest.

As they parted, Theon whispered, “So, I'm supposing I found you through some magical love bullshit?”

“I... may have marked you, accidentally... and through that you were able to sense what I was sensing.”

“Accidentally.”

“Hm-hm. - Theon mumbled, not convinced, then placed his head against Robb's chest – Another question...”

“Yes?”, Robb asked, kissing the top of Theon's head.

“...if we cut the wolframite in a smaller piece, let's say a pendant... it would weaken you but not significantly, right? Just enough to not make you turn into Wolverine?”

“I- Wolverine doesn't... transform or...”

“Reply to the point, nerd.”

Robb coughed, embarrassed, caught off guard, “I suppose so, why?”

Theon rolled his eyes to the ceiling, then smirked, “Take a wild guess.”

“Oh. _Oh_. - Robb blinked – I hadn’t thought about that.”

Theon raised an eyebrow, “Should I feel offended?”

Robb scoffed, “No, it's just... I didn't... think you'd want to still be with me in that way, after you knew I'm...well, a joke of nature.”

“If Elvis didn't make me change my mind, nothing will.”

“You really hate Elvis, don't you?”

“Deeply.”, he smirked, closed his eyes and leaned in for another kiss.

“Sorry to interrupt. - Asha said, looking all but surprised – Do we have a plan or just a bad malepreg scenario?”

Theon sighed, groaned, opened his eyes and looked at Robb.

“I'll go check on the docks myself. You all should stay here, safe and sound.”

Theon stiffened, “Yeah, that doesn't sound like a master plan.”

“I would never risk your life and I already did, too much. - he said, trying to sound firm, while shame took over and forced him to look away from Theon – You'll wait here.”

He should have returned quickly.

Of course, he was late.

After a full two hours, Theon had been on the verge of insanity and nothing could calm him. Asha tried everything, from distracting him to engaging him, turning on and off the news – but there were... no news. Jeyne changed their bandages and tried really hard to make it all seem nice and safe, while Theon's stomach would just clench and stir and turn.

But it was not until the lights went off, that they freaked out.

Tha air felt tense with their fear, Jeyne holding onto Theon's arm, looking around through the pitch jet darkness of the electric-less night.

Theon stood up, frantically, feeling his own heartbeat jumping out of his chest, his breath as dense as steel. He turned to the door, then the balcony, wondering where the danger would have come from.

Asha moved swiftly, smooth like a shadow, to the door, hoping to get the rifle she had left at the entrance. But she didn't manage to reach it.

The door fell off quickly, unhanged and scattered at once, and she found a kick right in her jaw, that sent her on the floor.

Jeyne moused up behind Theon, who grabbed the first thing he could find... a thin, weak ground lamp, as skinny as a spider.

“Own. - the familiar voice tweeted – How cute. We keep running into each other, don't we?”

“Jeyne, run away...”, Theon whispered to her, holding the lamp like a baseball player his bat.

But she just held onto him more, terrified.

The Skinless man, or, as they knew him now, Ramsay Bolton, had a grin shining yellowy white and sinister in the darkness. His cold eyes thinned as he stared at Theon's fingers.

And Theon fell to the ground again, screaming just like some hours ago.

One would think they could get used to the pain. But no.

It was beyond bearable and gory, gory as it may be, seeing his little finger getting peeled like a banana. It felt ridiculous and painful and his mouth filled with vomit.

“Now. - Ramsay came up to him and lifted his head by the hair, pulling it, but the pain of the hand almost made that feel effortless and absent – I'm going to have a lot of fun with you, my dear.”

Jeyne's hand trembled, as she reached for one of his chisels. Theon couldn't see what she was doing, it looked like she was trying to consume the ground or something.... he couldn't protest.

Maybe she had lost her mind.

He barely could feel anything anymore at that point.

Just disgust, and the unfairness, and how bad it felt to die like that, without seeing Robb again.

“Ohi, fucker.”, Jeyne called and threw on his face a whole cup of lukewarm tea.

The splash was noisy but the result scarce, Ramsay just dropped Theon's hair and moved towards her with a creepy grin on his lips, like liquid wrath.

Theon tried to tell her to run, but only a breath came out.

He rattled on the floor, trying to turn, to say, to do, something...

“Do you wish to die so badly, baby girl?”

“You can't call me baby girl. - she then raised her hands with the exposed lamp wire – But you can go fuck yourself.” And pressed it onto him.

Theon stared, half in awe, half in horror, as Jeyne held the wire to Ramsay, shocking him, sparks flying and running over his wet body, until he weakly dropped to his knees and feel to the ground, harmless.

She then took the wire and tied his wrists together and proceeded to blindfold him, just to make sure, even coming to his senses, he would have been stuck.

Theon rose up slowly, staring at that five feet sized killer kitten.

She turned to him and panted, her pupils blown, her mind still half dazed, as if she also couldn't believe the power of adrenaline.

“Nobody can hurt my girlfriend's hand.”

“Remind me to never make lesbian jokes again...”, Theon chuckled, nervously.

“...help me call the police before he wakes up.”

Theon shook his head, standing up completely, “I need to find Robb.”

“You need a doctor.”

“I need to find Robb.”, he repeated firmly and Jeyne knew she had no choice.

“You need a doctor.”, a voice replied, behind him.

A very, very mangy Grey Wind entered through the French window. One of his arms looked broken, he had blood stains over his face. And he limped.

Theon ran to him, grabbing him before he fell. He was too heavy, at first, and de-transformed slowly, letting his normal Robb weight be still a bit too much for Theon to handle, but surely a better deal.

Theon stared at him, enchanted and scared, “You look like a mess.”

“You're very beautiful too, love.”, Robb replied, almost breathless.

Theon caressed his hair, keeping his head up. His voice turned all soft.

“You're never going on a mission alone.”

Robb smiled, his little canine teeth peeking out over the soft, swollen lips. His look as sweet as summer sky.

“I didn't know I was hiring Robins.”

“You don't really have a choice now, do you?”, Theon whispered, bending closer and kissing his hero, sweetly and tenderly, with all the rapture and ardor kissing a superhero required, as if, also that time, he had gotten saved by him.

Because he had been, after all, though not from the Skinless man.

Rather, from solitude he never knew he felt before meeting him.

But who saved him was not Superman. It was his own personal, dorky, Elvis-loving, lumberjack dog-lover Clark Kent.

And that, to Theon and to Robb, was the best part.

 


End file.
